Without Elegy Poem by Satish Verma
Without Elegy
In low spirits, moon
fiddles with dark clouds, sometimes
walks away moodily.
*
Fear follows you in
sun-bathed field, like a ghost,
where marigold lives.
*
Death doesn't recognize
the angel wounded in grass
by peacock's feather.
Sunday, May 13, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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7/28/2025 1:49:03 PM # 1.0.0
